Nox Aeterna
by memoirs-of-a-dreamer
Summary: Nerezza thought she was mostly normal, until the literal Boogeyman started to regularly stalk her dreams. When even more storybook characters appear, secrets older than her emerge and everything changes. Darkness is coming. Can the Guardians win this time? Or will Nerezza tip the balance the wrong way and cost Jack Frost his life? Because sometimes, love is just a weakness...
1. Prologue

_Some people believe that in the battle of good versus evil, good will always prevail. They cling to their childish innocence with a vengeance, determined to believe that there is no possible way that darkness could triumph over light. Light may be startling and bright enough to clear away most everything, but darkness is powerful, too. It has a subtle beauty. It creeps along, barely noticeable, until it worms its way into your soul so slowly you didn't even notice until it was too late._

_After all, light can't **always** win._

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Prologue

Nerezza kicked a small stone, watching as it skittered across the concrete sidewalk before landing against a tiny patch of snow. Her face wrinkled into a grimace as she studied the shiny white particles. She stomped on the snow angrily, leaving behind a dirty footprint to mar the innocent surface. She stormed on down the street as she cursed the terrible season of winter. Fall had barely touched the tiny town of Burgess, yet winter would soon come stealing down to ruin it. She would have to bundle up in scratchy wool and slog through endless slush while her mother jetted off to exotic locations in her slinky dresses and strappy heels.

A sharp gust from a chilly breeze stung Nerezza's olive cheeks, staining them a deep red, in contrast with the rosy pink most people's cheeks turned when cold. She impatiently flicked a piece of almost unnaturally black hair back from her face as she continued down the road for a block before turning onto Kern Street.

Suddenly, a feeling somewhat like ice crackling down her spine caused her to freeze in the middle of the road. She whipped around and frantically studied the street, seeing nothing but a strange flash of white and blue that vanished behind a tree. Her dark brown, almost black, eyes darted around for a few more moments before she took the rest of the distance to her house at a dead sprint. She had been having a strange feeling, like someone was watching her who wasn't really there, for a few weeks now. This was the first time there actually had been something. It hadn't bothered her at first, but now it unsettled her. Was she going crazy? Or was this going to be like her nightmares?

Just thinking of the nightmares caused an involuntary shudder to ripple through her body. Her fists clenched as she leaned against the inside of the front door, still panting from her random running experience. She bit her tongue and refused to think about her nightmares. Pitch could have her when she slept, but during the day she was in control of her mind.

"Nerezza?" her mother called from the kitchen. "Is that you, finally?"

Nerezza blinked in surprise. Her mother was supposed to be in Europe for the next few days. She hadn't even called to let Nerezza know that she'd be home today.

"Hello darling," her mother drawled as she breezed over to Nerezza and brushed two air-kisses on her, one for each cheek. If she hadn't always done that, Nerezza would think she had picked it up in Europe.

"Hello Mother," Nerezza greeted her mother carefully. "Why are you home so soon?"

"Oh, business got a little too dry for me," Desdemona smiled in her fake, overly red lipstick-ed way before leading her daughter into the kitchen. "I fly out to China tomorrow afternoon though. I'll be gone before you get home from school."

"Have you been to China yet?" Nerezza inquired while picking at the cookies her mother had carefully arranged on a plate. It was obvious that Desdemona thought that she was pulling something over on her daughter by making her think they were homemade, but they were too perfect. Plus, the receipt was sitting out on the counter and the plastic container was clearly visible in the otherwise-empty trash bin. Desdemona couldn't even remember that her daughter was supposed to be home from school hours ago. Why should Nerezza believe she would put any effort into her at all?

"Yes honey," her mother sighed and shook her head, her also-black hair swishing perfectly with the motion. "It's Japan I still haven't visited. But I think I'll be over there within the next few months."

"Hmmm," Nerezza made noncommittal noises as her mother poured them both glasses of wine. Nerezza had been drinking wine ever since she was old enough to ask her mother what she was drinking. Desdemona saw no reason for drinking ages of any kind. She had a much less strict parenting style than the norm of other mothers of children her age. Nerezza had to put up with much mindless moaning and complaining from her fellow students about their terrible parents. They should be lucky that their parents even cared.

"So, how's school?" Desdemona asked her daughter while she sipped on her bitter red wine. Nerezza made a face. "As long as you aren't failing, darling. Who needs school anyways? I barely made it to middle school and I'm doing much better than _most _educated people these days."

"Yes Mother," Nerezza responded automatically to her mother's upturned nose. Desdemona could be unpredictable, but in moods like this Nerezza could read her like a book. She just wanted her daughter to smile and agree with her. After all, they only had a few short hours together. Nerezza had enough conflict in her dreams to not want any to occur in the daytime, even if it was with her almost always absent mother. And it seemed her mother actually agreed with her, for once.

Nerezza took a slow sip from her wine, choking slightly at the first onslaught of dryness. After she adjusted to the bitter liquid, she rolled it around on her tongue a few times to savor the flavor before swallowing it daintily. Her mother nodded her approval at Nerezza's ladylike behavior. If there was one pet peeve Desdemona detested above all others, it was ladies that could not behave properly. Nerezza had received her fair share – and more – of brutal 'lady training' when she was a child until there was no possible way for her to stray from that behavior without wincing at the memories of sharp, stinging insults.

Desdemona glanced up at the wall clock and let out a small gasp. "Oh, I simply must get packing! Why don't you start fixing some dinner? I'll be out in an hour or two."

Nerezza nodded as her mother flew out of the room, somehow balancing on her five inch stiletto heels and leaving a dark cloud of black cocktail dress in her wake. Desdemona did not believe in 'dressing down'. She believed one should always be ready for anything, which to her meant that being dressed in lavish party dresses or sleek business suits, always accompanied by a minimum of four inch heels, was mandatory everyday attire.

Nerezza perked up at the sound of the soft pitter-pattering of paws on the plush, carpeted floor. Her midnight-black cat Adriana slunk into the room with her tail and nose up in the air. She rubbed against Nerezza's legs once before swaying lazily over to the couch, where she immediately curled up into a ball and fell asleep. Her tiny nose twitched a few times, which made Nerezza smile. Adriana was her only company for the long stretches of time while her mother was away and her only source of comfort, with or without her mother.

"Nerezza, I don't here dinner being prepared," her mother called in her unique way of being both threatening and nonchalant at the same time. It was a tone her mother had mastered after years of working at her shady diplomatic company. Desdemona would not explain to Nerezza what it was exactly that she did, just that it was extremely important and she had to always be traveling. She had once mentioned a little tidbit about beginning to groom Nerezza to help her, but she hadn't mentioned it since. Nerezza sighed as she thought about it, and wished her mother would hurry up and get her out of this classless town already. During lunch today, two football players had gotten into a fight right in front of Nerezza's table. She couldn't believe that people would be so inconsiderate and Neanderthal-like to settle their disputes with a physical brawl where everyone could see them. She didn't understand most people in her town, let alone the teenagers. They were an unremitting mystery to her.

"Nerezza," her mother warned her one last time. Nerezza sprang into action, preparing a simple meal of grilled chicken and a tossed salad. Another one of her mother's many lessons was cooking. Desdemona demanded excellence in everything; including the food she was served. Since she simply did not have time to cook, she taught Nerezza everything she needed to know after Adrian had left them.

Miraculously, Nerezza and her mother managed to sit through ten minutes of casual conversation without arguing before her mother received a phone call and left Nerezza alone to poke at her plate. Adriana pounced on the table once Desdemona left, her tail swaying back and forth. She weaved through the various plates on the table to perch carefully on the edge next to Nerezza, who patted her for a few moments before sneaking the cat a small piece of chicken. Adriana purred and rubbed against Nerezza's hands as Nerezza giggled at the cat's antics.

Once she finished her meal and cleaned up her mother's barely-touched dishes as well as her own, Nerezza quickly showered and lay down in bed, dreading the nightmares to come. Adriana leaped up onto her bed to curl up next to her, heating up the bed. Adriana preceded Nerezza into dreamland by a long time as Nerezza lay awake, staring at the shadowy ceiling and listening to her mother murmur out in the living room about who- knows-what into her cell phone.

After a few hours of glancing at her blinking alarm clock, Nerezza realized a different approach was necessary. She thought long and hard before a familiar lullaby popped into her mind. Her mother used to sing it to her when she was just a little girl, before Adrian had left and before the tall, dark stranger she now knew as Pitch had visited.

"Ninna nanna, ninna oh, Questo bimbo a chi lo dò ? Se lo dò alla Befana, Se lo tiene una settimana. Se lo dò all'uomo nero, Se lo tiene un anno intero. Ninna nanna, ninna oh, Questo bimbo me lo terrò," Nerezza sang quietly, her soft voice echoing throughout the empty room. As each word flowed past her lips her exhaustion grew until it overpowered her, pulling her down into sleep's embrace.

However, it was not a comforting embrace for her anymore. She knew that sleep would allow him in. In sleep, Pitch would be waiting.

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**All right, that's all for the prologue! Much love to my amazing beta, fall to the left, for reading my extremely raw first drafts and helping me brush them up and make them all pretty :) By the way, the translation for the Italian lullaby is this: "****Lullaby, lullaby, ooh, who will I give this baby to? If I give him to the old hag, for a week she will keep him, ahh. If I give him to the bogeyman, for a whole year he'll keep him. Lullaby, lullaby, eeee, I will keep this baby for me." Reviews are amazing!**

**Until next time,**

**~FantasyAndBrokenDreams**


	2. Initium

**DISLCAIMER TO LAST FOR THE ENTIRE STORY: I OWN NOTHING FROM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS, JUST NEREZZA AND ANY OTHER OC'S.**

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Chapter 1

_"Oh, my darling child, you can't run from me," Pitch called from his stance a few feet behind me. Scrambling to stand up, I ignored his advice and took off down the dark road. I needed to get away. I didn't even realize where I was going until the street morphed around me and a house loomed in the horizon. It was my house, but something was wrong. It was being devoured by bright red and orange flames. My house was drenched in ravenous fire._

_ I skidded to a stop and fell to my knees, skinning them on the hard ground. I felt a hand on my shoulder. A sinking feeling filled the pit of my stomach and I wrenched myself out of Pitch's grasp._

_ "Leave me alone," I seethed at him as I shuddered. The air grew colder around us as he continued to draw closer, despite the warmth permeating through the area surrounding the burning house._

_ "You won't be here forever you know," he told me, sounding almost remorseful. "You have allowed yourself to become too attached to things, despite everyone's best efforts."_

_ "I don't care about the house," I snapped bitterly. I pushed myself up off the ground and placed my back to him. "And I'm not afraid of you."_

_ "No," he realized, choosing his words carefully as the scene began to change almost imperceptibly around me. "But maybe you should be afraid of me, child. I can dip into your innermost thoughts and delve into your darkest secrets. The minute you think it, I know it. I can turn your best dreams into your worst nightmares. I can destroy everyone and everything you care about."_

_ Cold fear seeped into my mind and gripped my heart as an image of my mother flashed across my mind. I cursed myself internally as I realized that he now knew exactly how to get under my skin. My own fear would betray me yet again._

_ "Nerezza!" a loud shout came from inside the crackling, burning building. "Nerezza, help me!"_

_ I froze as my breath ended in a sharp gasp. My feet pounded against the pavement as panic took control of my head and steered me towards my mother's screaming voice. Pitch sighed from behind me and snapped his fingers. Suddenly, the pavement writhed like a basket full of snakes and reached one foggy black tendril up my leg to yank me back. More strands wrapped around me to hold me into place. I screeched wordlessly, still struggling to get to my mother's aid._

_ "Why do you care?" Pitch asked with genuine curiosity. He walked slowly around to put his stretched-out, inquiring face in front of me. One of his pale, cold white hands reached out to touch my cheek almost tenderly. "Why do you care so much for someone who doesn't care about you?"_

_ Angrily, I jerked out of his grasp and punched him right in the nose- hard. I had a mean right hook. Surprised, he backed away from me as anger painted his features. The momentary distraction caused him to lost control of the tendrils holding me in place. I wrenched myself away and tore towards the house._

_ "Mom!" I screamed, my voice already raw and hoarse from the smoke. "Mom!"_

I yanked myself up into a sitting position, gasping desperately for breath. Tremors shuddered through my body as panic rushed through me for a few moments before I took in my surroundings and realized that I was safe. As always, it was only a dream. I had let Pitch get the best of me again.

I collapsed back onto the bed. Adriana meowed indignantly after I almost fell right on top of her barely-conscious form. I sighed and scooted over a little bit to accommodate my demanding little cat, who immediately fell right back asleep despite my obvious emotional distress. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks in the blinds on my window. I glanced over at my alarm clock, which chose that exact moment to start blaring obnoxiously.

I glared at it before slinging my hand around to the off button, which I tapped impatiently. Groaning, I managed to pull myself out from the warm nest that was my bed. I stumbled groggily across the room to find my fuzzy white robe, which I threw on over my red flannel pajamas to help hold out the sudden chill that had filled my room sometime during the night. When I peeked out of my window, a thick blanket of snow covering the entire street confirmed my suspicions. My day was ruined.

I stumbled about the hallway as I made my way to the kitchen, where my mom awaited me. She was perched on the edge of a kitchen chair, legs crossed neatly in front of her as she sipped her daily coffee out of a white mug. She clucked her tongue at my disheveled appearance. I clawed at my hair in a fruitless attempt to tame it before I simply gave up and poured myself my own cup of coffee. Maybe the one thing my mother and I had in common, minus our physical appearances, was that we both liked our coffee black. Any cream or sugar, in my opinion, completely ruined the natural bitter taste of the coffee.

"Good morning Mother," I said after I had consumed almost half of the coffee in my own pristinely white mug. I rubbed the bridge of my nose and gulped down the rest of my coffee rather inelegantly. My mother watched the whole time with a disapproving look on her face but did not press the issue, which surprised me. She usually never missed an opportunity to 'fix' my behavior.

"Good morning Nerezza," she responded as she set her coffee mug down primly and took a tiny bite out of the plain piece of toast on the plate in front of her. "I trust that you will tidy yourself up before you leave for school?"

"Of course," I forced out past gritted teeth. I opened the door to the refrigerator and studied the almost-bare insides and meager contents, which consisted of a half-empty loaf of bread and a couple of different fruits.

"How about now?" my mother suggested forcefully, standing up and straightening her charcoal pencil skirt as she placed her now-empty coffee mug into the dishwasher. I knew she wasn't asking so much as demanding, so I abandoned my not-yet-prepared breakfast and headed off to the bathroom.

Forty-five minutes later, I was finished. I patted my spiral curls carefully without flattening them. They felt warm under my hand. My hair was naturally curly but a curling iron never hurt anything, at least according to my mother. And she was right, of course. My curls looked much nicer now that they weren't the natural mess I had woken up with this morning.

My makeup was flawless, as usual. I had learned to put on makeup around the same time I entered third grade, even though I hadn't been allowed to wear it until I started middle school. My mother had been adamant that I was adept in every skill set she considered necessary, including the art of makeup. I had complained at the time, but was thankful for it now. Not only did I look ten times better than the slovenly heathens who paraded around in sweatpants every day, it had a practical application in my art. It was through makeup that I had realized my talent for drawing.

"Let me see," my mother commanded as I stepped back into the kitchen. I held open my grey peacoat with both hands so she could tug and adjust my knee-length cobalt dress. She frowned slightly at my thick, ash-colored leggings and blue beanie but shook her head as if considering the chill outside for the first time. A smile broke across her face like the sun rising above the horizon at the beginning of the day when she took in my favorite blue ankle boots with a bow along the side and three inch heels. They were the product of our last shopping trip together before my mother decided leaving me money and having me shop for myself while she was away was much simpler for her. Despite the bad feelings between us and the age of the shoes, I didn't have the heart to get rid of them. It was the last time we could do anything together without fighting.

"Can I go now? I need to get going or I'll be late for school," I wriggled out of her demanding grasp as she fidgeted with the thin belt around my waist. I darted to the fridge and snatched out an apple to take to-go.

"All right. I won't be home for a week or two. I'll call when I know for sure. And we need to talk about all these leggings and hats you keep wearing!" My mother called as I dashed out of the door, barely remembering to sling my black tote bag over my shoulder and grab my sketchbook on my way out. I wasn't in the mood to hear my mother's fashion advice today.

The cold air hit me like a ton of bricks. The air wooshed out of my lungs as snow crunched under my heeled boots and I almost sunk into the ground. Despite my mother's mantra about heels being a necessity, it would be nice to not always get stuck in the ground. Ice stabbed my esophagus as I inhaled the snowy air. I slowed from a half-run into a fast walk after I turned the corner away from my house and I was sure my mother couldn't see me if she looked out the window. I still had plenty of time to get to school but I just couldn't stand being in that house any longer. She didn't notice anyways. I saw her eyeing the clock impatiently and glancing over at her suitcase while I was in the kitchen. She was probably just as happy as I was to get rid of me.

I sighed when I finally reached shoveled sidewalks and could walk without getting my boots wet and dirty anymore. The satisfying clack of my heels was my only companion as I continued down the road. It was still early; not even eight o'clock. The school bus had already come and gone and no other high-schooler wanted to brave the chill. I only did so to avoid the school bus. Being cramped into a tiny tin space with over thirty other screaming teenagers that I despised was not even an option. I would rather take the mile-long walk.

I turned onto Jamie's street and noticed his mother struggling to get into her car while carrying a squealing Sophie and a large work bag. I hurried down the driveway to take the bag from her so she could get Sophie into her car seat successfully.

"Thanks Nerezza," Mrs. Bennett smiled warmly as she shut the van door and took her bag back.

"Anytime," I responded, also smiling. Mrs. Bennett was the nicest, most sincere adult I had ever had the pleasure of interacting with. Her son, Jamie, was the only child I could stand. He had an enviable imagination and didn't let anything get him down. "We still on for tonight?"

"Of course. Jamie really does not want to go to Sophie's little recital and I just don't have the heart to make him. Sophie won't even remember by tomorrow anyways," Mrs. Bennett confided with a laugh. I smiled and waved at Sophie, who had started whining.

"I better let you go," I told her, gesturing to the crying Sophie. "See you tonight."

"Have a good day at school!" She replied cheerily before getting into the car and pulling out into the road. I saw a sleepy Jamie wave at me from the kitchen window. I grinned and waved back before taking off back down the sidewalk. I was just barely going to make it to school on time.

I heard a high-pitched peal of laughter not unlike the tinkling of bells behind me. I whipped around to witness a flash of bright colors disappear behind the chimney of the Bennett house. It almost looked like the tail of a giant tropical bird. Great, now I was really going crazy. First the mysterious blue and white blur, now this. There are no colorful birds in Burgess during the winter, tropical or not.

Turning back to continue on my way, I tugged in my coat closer to my body as I struggled through the last few blocks before I reached the school building. My luck was apparently improving, because students were still milling around in great masses. The bell had not yet rung, and I was not late. The downside was now I had to wander around aimlessly until the bell did ring and release us all into the classrooms. I had no one to talk to in the mornings, so I always tried to walk into the school just as the bell was ringing. The only person who would even be caught dead in my vicinity was Cassandra, but she had been out the past few days with the flu. Even then, she had to be in a good mood to be seen with me. That happened about every once in a blue moon.

I could hear the students whisper as I slunk past them, trying to be invisible. I didn't want nor need their approval but their catty remarks did sting sometimes, and today I was just not in the mood. I didn't want to hear their snide commentary on my shoes or my dress. I wandered over to an empty bench near the restrooms and sat down, pulling out a pen and opening my sketchbook to a blank page. Most of the pages were already filled with glimpses into my worst nightmares. Every dream Pitch had ever invaded was documented here. If I spent time with my fears and learned to overcome them, he would eventually have nothing to hold over me. At least, I hoped.

I let my hair fall down across my face and cover my ears in an attempt to block the outside world. As if by magic, the sounds muted and everything seemed to be a blur outside my little safe haven ringed by my curls and sketchbook. Focusing on the blank white page, I took my pencil down softly to trace the outline of a burning house.

I made the flames lick at the edges of the house and steal through the windows. Smoke poured from every opening and formed a billowing cloud in the deep black sky, blocking any hope at a moon or stars. The house slowly gained more personality until it became my house. The familiar dead plant at the front door and the dilapidated porch swing were all being burnt into a crisp in my drawing. I shuddered as I remembered my nightmare. The picture still needed one last thing.

My hands shook slightly as I carefully shaded in a dark shadow before giving it more features. I internally berated myself for being afraid of a stupid picture. Pitch could only hurt me if I let myself fear him, which I refused to do. The only way I would become a victim was if I let him take me.

It was only a rough sketch, but already everything seemed so realistic to my nightmare. Shady black tendrils swirled around the edges of the paper and I was already forming a picture in my head of what I was going to do with this painting. A perfect black watercolor sprung to my mind. The only color would be the angry, flaming red and orange of the fire.

The bell sprung me out of my reverie. I quickly snapped my sketchbook shut and stood up as I was jostled around in the now frantic crowd. I pushed my sketchbook under my arm and trudged headlong into the crowd, disappearing into the mass of people.

_Soon my darling, a_ dark voice whispered. The sound seemed to echo across the courtyard and I saw a shadow melt into the ground, leaving behind only a cloud of fear. _Soon._

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**Well there's chapter one! As always, much love to my awesome beta fall to the left. She's an awesome writer so check out her stories too! Hope you enjoyed and REVIEW! :)**

**Until next time,**

**~FantasyAndBrokenDreams**


	3. Jamie

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING FROM RotG, JUST MY OC'S AND PLOT.**

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Chapter 2

School dragged on, as usual. Had I not had the lesson of "ladies never run" drilled in to me since a young age, I would have sprinted out the gates when the final bell rang. As it were, at the end of the day I walked as quickly as I could to escape the oncoming horde, otherwise known as my classmates. I breathed a sigh of relief when I reached my house without encountering anyone.

I passed the few hours I would be at home by quickly doing my homework. Despite being in all honors and AP classes, I found the work to be quite easy – unlike my classmates. I think they just like to complain. Before I knew it, it was time to go.

I glanced at the display on my phone as I climbed up the stairs and noticed I was right on time. I stomped my heels carefully on the welcome mat in front of the Bennett house and rang the doorbell. I shivered as a particularly cold gust of wind dusted my cheeks with a deep blush and blew my medium-length hair across my face. It seemed that winter really was coming unnaturally early to Burgess this year. I heard loud stomps from inside before the door flew open.

"Nezzy!" Sophie shouted as she toddled down the steps and threw herself at me. I stumbled a bit at the impact but plucked her up off the ground and into my arms anyways. I smiled at the fact that she still couldn't say my name despite my constant corrections. I had tried for months to teach her the proper pronunciation, but after a while I recognized it as a lost cause and gave up.

"Sophie!" I smiled at her and carried her inside. "You look so pretty!"

She beamed at me and tried to show off her pink tutu, but couldn't position herself properly while in my arms. She struggled a bit so I let her down. She jutted a hip out and modeled for me as her mother came rushing out of the hallway.

"Hi Nerezza; Sophie, get your coat on now- we are going to be late!" Mrs. Bennett cried frantically as she scuttled around the living room, shoving various objects into her purse. I smiled and shook my head at her perpetual tardiness as I handed Sophie her little pink coat.

"Let's go, Sophie! Thank you, Nerezza. Hopefully, we'll be home around nine, but definitely by eleven at the latest- bye Jamie!" Mrs. Bennett's words rushed out all in one breath, the last bit being shouted towards the stairs where Jamie's voice could be heard mumbling a reply. She waved back at me one last time before stuffing Sophie into the car and pulling out of the driveway.

I let out a breath as I threw my bag onto the couch. The whooshing air caused the little pieces of hair that had fallen in front of my face to flutter frantically before flipping back into place. I shoved it back impatiently before giving up and gathering my stubborn hair into a high bun atop my head. It wouldn't please my mother, but she wasn't here. What she didn't know wouldn't kill her.

I collapsed onto the couch, narrowly avoiding flopping right on top of my bag. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples. After a long day of school, I just wanted to take a long nap and then put the final touches on my watercolor. It had turned out better than I had expected. It would definitely make the Wall.

Suddenly, a loud peal of laughter from Jamie's room roused me out of my half-conscious stupor. The shock propelled me onto my feet and shot me across the room before I realized that the noise was laughter and not someone breaking into the house. I rolled my eyes at my own stupidity and went to sit back down before I heard it- it being another voice that was definitely not Jamie's.

"Jamie?" I called out to him, padding over to the stairwell. "Is someone else here?"

"Um, no?" he replied, sounding so unsure it came out like a question.

I raised my eyebrows. Jamie had been becoming more and more secretive over the past few months, and I wasn't having it. If he was sneaking his friends in despite his mother's strict rules about having people over while she was gone, he wouldn't be doing it for much longer.

I waited for a few minutes until I heard Jamie and the other unfamiliar voice resume conversation. I crept up the stairs quietly, wincing at every tiny creak of the floorboards. I had just reached Jamie's door when I heard the window fly open and Jamie mutter a quick goodbye to the stranger. I stormed in the door, but found nothing unusual. A chilly breeze flitted through the open window. I caught a flash of brown and blue outside in the distance, but it was gone before my mind could even process it.

"Jamie, why is your window open?" I asked sternly, shivering as goose bumps covered my exposed skin. "It's freezing in here!"

"Sorry," Jamie mumbled as he flipped over onto his back on his bed. "It got warm in here."

"Who were you talking to?" I pressed as I sat next to his supine form on the bed, tracing patterns in his comforter.

"Nobody?" he tried. I raised a single eyebrow at him and he smoothed his face into one of absolute innocence. "Jack Frost?"

"Oh really?" I grinned at him. My worry melted away into relief as I realized he just had an imaginary friend. He was probably just changing his voice to talk back to himself. "And what did you and Jack Frost talk about?"

"Nothing much," he told me as he pulled himself into a sitting position. "Just how I helped him save the world a couple of months ago."

"You helped him save the world?" I played along, smiling at his childish innocence. "How did you do that?"

"Well, there was this really bad guy trying to get rid of the other Guardians and replace them with fear. You know who the other Guardians are, right? Oh, I forgot, I didn't tell you about that night in my bedroom… All right, well, the guardians are the Tooth Fairy, who's half bird by the way; and Santa Clause,  
only he's big and has tattoos and is called North; then there's Sandman, who can't talk and has to mime everything; oh, and the Easter Bunny! Except he's six feet tall and has these really awesome boomerangs and stuff…" Jamie prattled on, eyes shining with excitement and hands waving through the air at double time to keep up with his words.

I listened to his story about the Nightmare King and how he and the Guardians helped defeat him. I smiled and gasped at all the right points, which made him even more enthusiastic about his storytelling. Jamie was the kind of person who could tell a story and enthrall those listening, even if the story was absolutely crazy. His vivid imagination knew no bounds and being around him made me feel like a child again.

"Nerezza?" Jamie asked tentatively as his story petered out. "Can we do that drawing thing again?"

"Sure, Jamie," I told him. Jamie had noticed me drawing one afternoon and asked if I would draw him something. He described something, which I penned quickly to the paper. He had been so entertained by the rough sketches I drew that it had become a ritual whenever I came over.

He hopped out of bed and raced down the stairs, leaving me trailing behind him. I pulled my sketchpad out of my bag and opened it to a blank page, careful not to let Jamie see any of my drawings of Pitch or my nightmares as he settled next to me on the couch. There was no need to scare him with the knowledge that there really was a Nightmare King outside the safe cocoon of his imagination.

"What will I be drawing this time?" I asked him playfully as I poked him lightly in the side with the eraser end of my pencil.

"Jack Frost!" he crowed, bouncing up and down beside me. The whole couch was shaking as his excitement bubbled over.

"Okay then," I said as turned to him, poising my pencil over the sketchpad invitingly. "What does Jack Frost look like?"

"Well, he's kinda tall and he's reaaaaaally skinny," he started off, watching my hand with fascination as it flew across the paper. Thin grey lines connected in a rough outline of a boy's form.

"Like this?" I asked him, my pencil still stroking the paper lightly.

"Yeah, except he doesn't touch the ground that often. He kinda floats a little above the ground," he informed me. I nodded and erased some of the picture, redrawing it so the boy's feet were about a foot off the ground. "Yeah, just like that."

"Okay, what else?" I asked as I paused, my pencil an inch or so off the sketchpad. It fluttered a bit in my hand as if it had a mind of its own, eager to return to drawing.

"Well, he has white hair. It's kinda messy, like he just woke up or something and didn't brush his hair. And he's got dark eyebrows and really blue eyes. They look kinda like two chips of ice," Jamie described. My pencil struggled to keep up with his descriptions, but he stopped to let me catch up.

"What is his default expression?" I asked Jamie, who looked at me with a confused look in his eyes. "Okay, what does his face normally look like?" I rephrased the question and Jamie seemed to get it this time.

"Oh, he is always getting into trouble! Mommy told me a word to describe it… um, mis-mischee-mischievee… Um…" Jamie struggled to remember. I couldn't help but laugh at the frustrated look that flitted across his face.

"Mischievous?" I asked, trying to hold back any more laughter.

"That's it!" Jamie shouted triumphantly, looking very pleased with himself for almost remembering the word. "Mischievous!"

"Okay," I bit down on my tongue softly in concentration as I struggled to get his facial features in the right position to give him a playful look. "How's that?"

"Really good," Jamie encouraged me. "Except he doesn't look like a kid like me. He looks like he's about your age." I fixed the face just a bit, making the angles a bit sharper and the eyes a little less innocent. "Great! Now, he wears a blue hoodie and these kinda ratty brown pants that have these criss-crossy things going up his legs here." Jamie pointed at the calves of the boy in the picture. I traced in the clothing Jamie described, fixing little things here and there that he critiqued. Before I knew it, the picture was finished.

A teenage boy peered out from the page, eyes bright. His expression screamed troublemaker, like some of the boys in my class teachers never trusted and always seemed to be doing something wrong. His messy hair stuck up in different directions and he carried a large, crooked staff with an upside-down "U" at the top.

"What do you think?" I asked Jamie, turning the sketchpad slightly in my lap so it faced him.

"That's really good! It looks just like him!" Jamie clapped his hands and grinned at me. "Can I have it?"

"Of course," I told him, smiling as I tore the rough sketch out of the sketchbook, handing him the picture.

Jamie's eyes grew round and his jaw popped open a little bit as he looked at my sketchpad. I looked down and realized I had revealed one of my charcoal drawings of Pitch. This particular one featured the Nightmare King in the center, a cruel smirk on his face. He was surrounded by smoke and black tendrils emanating from the center of the page, where Pitch stood. He almost seemed to be staring into the depths of the onlooker's soul and discovering their deepest, darkest secrets and fears. It was horrifying, even to me.

I hurriedly slammed the book shut, shoving it back in my bag. "I'm sorry. It's just something from a dream."

"You mean a nightmare," Jamie corrected, his voice low and hollow. "You've seen him too. That's him! That's Pitch!"

Dread settled in my stomach and ice flowed through my veins at the mention of his name. "How do you know who he is?"

"He's the guy I was talking about! That I helped Jack Frost and the Guardians defeat!" Jamie shouted, eyes wild. He jumped off the couch and paced a small circle in front of me.

"Jamie, he's not even real," I told him, my voice shaking a bit. I didn't want Jamie to be corrupted by Pitch's evil. He was my nightmare and nobody else's. I could handle him.

"Yes he is Nerezza!" Jamie insisted, tears shining in his brown eyes. "You have to tell the Guardians!"

I glanced over at the clock and noticed that it read eight thirty. "Jamie, it's time for you to get ready for bed."

"Nerezza, please!" he pleaded, clasping his hands together as if he was praying. "Listen to me!"

I stood up abruptly and gestured towards the stairs. "Bed."

Jamie gave me one last despondent look before storming up the stairs. I heard him throw things around in his room and bathroom loudly as he readied himself for bed. I fell back to the couch with a huff and curled into a tiny ball.

The house grew silent and dark after Jamie went to bed around nine o'clock. I stayed in my fetal position on the couch until I heard the Bennett's car pull into the driveway around nine forty-five. I stood up, stretching my stiff muscles as Mr. Bennett brushed past me, headed straight for his office without so much as a hello.

"How was it?" I whispered to Mrs. Bennett, who held a slumbering Sophie in her arms.

"Sophie was wonderful. She had such a good time too, I don't even think she noticed that her dad didn't show up until the very end," Mrs. Bennett responded, a weary look in her eyes. I nodded and accepted the folded-up bills she passed me and turned to leave. "If you wait a few minutes I can drive you home. It's pretty cold out there."

"I'm fine," I told her with a faint smile. "I don't mind the walk."

"If you're sure," Mrs. Bennett relented, a frown creasing her brow. "Thanks so much."

I waved goodbye and stepped outside, biting my tongue as the bitterly cold wind almost made me run back inside and accept Mrs. Bennett's offer. But the more time I took getting home, the less time I would have to spend delaying sleep in an empty, lonely house- and the less time I would spend enduring Pitch's nightmares.

* * *

**Okay, the first thing I need to do is apologize for the long wait...I'm a pretty big procrastinator. But my beta fall to the left (who is awesome btw, check her out) got on me and she definitely won't be as lenient next time. Round of applause for her. So, I guess that's all. REVIEW! :D I update faster the more reviews I get :)**

**Until next time,**

**~FantasyAndBrokenDreams**


	4. Custodes

**DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN ANYTHING FROM RISE OF THE GUARDIANS, ONLY MY OC'S AND THE PLOT.**

* * *

I sighed as I contemplated the Wall, arms folded over my chest. There were no empty spots for my painting, but if I did some strategic moving and overlapping of the various pieces of art already on the Wall, it might fit.

Back before my father left and my mother became a workaholic, she spent lots of time with me if I passed her 'training' for the day. The Wall had been her idea when I had decided to redo my room at around age eight. I had suddenly changed my views and no longer could stand being in a room that was so… pink. It hadn't been changed at all, other than exchanging a crib for a bed, since my parents had set it up before I had been born. We were exchanging ideas about what to do for my room when my mother thought of it – a wall covered entirely with bulletin boards that I could use to display photos and other memorabilia. My younger self had loved the idea, and so it was executed. As I grew older and discovered my love for art the Wall had changed from photos to paintings and drawings. Of course, the lack of people to take photos with contributed to that as well. I could never stand children my age, my father left me alone, and my mother forced me to grow up too fast, so I didn't exactly have people queuing up to take pictures with me.

Only the best of my best pieces made it onto the wall due to both the lack of space and my avid art addiction. It constantly morphed and changed as I created new pieces and took others off, deeming them no longer acceptable. Currently, almost three-quarters of the Wall contained pieces involving Pitch and my nightmares.

I had to shuffle around almost all of the paintings multiple times before I could create a suitable space in the center of the Wall without having to remove any other pieces. I stood back to admire my work, pleased. There had been many a time where I was forced to remove perfectly good pieces or not display one because there simply wasn't room, and I was glad that this time that was not the case.

Adriana strutted into the room, meowing irritably. I cursed softly under my breath when I realized I had not yet fed her and that it was already almost lunchtime. I usually fed her right after I woke up in the mornings, but today I had been distracted by the task ahead of me. I had also spent a good half-hour curled up into a ball, shaking, from Pitch's latest visit. This one featured the particularly gruesome demise of Jamie. I couldn't regain composure for almost another hour after I was able to pull myself out of fetal position. For once, my fingers weren't itching to draw my nightmare. Some things were better confined to my head.

I poured Adriana's food into her bowl, and she proceeded to devour it with gusto. I pulled myself up to sit on the countertop with my ankles crossed and lost myself in my thoughts. Jamie's story and his recognition of Pitch had shaken me far more than I was willing to admit, especially to myself. At the same time, it was a relief. I wasn't going crazy; he was real. Somebody else could see him. Not that I would ever acknowledge that to Jamie, who would soon grow out of his childlike beliefs and forget Pitch ever existed. Then he could be safe, unlike me. But I was stronger than Jamie, whose innocence hung around him like a delicate glass shield. One tiny blow and it would shatter.

A knock on my door drew me out of my reverie. I glanced down at my sweatpants and tank top and contemplated ignoring it due to my state of undress, but I padded over to the door anyways and peeked out of the peephole in the door. Nobody was there, but an envelope lay on the welcome mat. A trail of footprints began in the snow beyond the porch but it quickly moved outside my field of vision with no person in sight. I opened the door cautiously and snatched up the letter, locking up the door behind me.

I studied the pale white envelope and the shaky writing of my name across the front. The handwriting was familiar but the obvious messiness of the writing kept me from identifying it right away. I opened it and pulled out a letter, which I recognized immediately since it was less hurried. It was Jamie's writing.

_Nerezza,_

_I know you don't believe me, but I've seen Pitch too. Everything I told you was true. You need to talk to the Guardians. You could be in danger. Please, meet me in the park tonight at 10. Bring your book. Please come._

_Jamie_

My face wrinkled further into a scowl with every word I read, right down to his hasty signature. I didn't know how he had managed to sneak away from his mother long enough to write and deliver this letter, nor how he would be able to escape tonight, but it was obvious he was not going to let this go. I used to admire his tenacity but in this situation I wished he had a shorter attention span. Should I humor him and go to see his 'Guardians'? Or was it about time he had a harsh reality check when I never showed?

I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment before I made my decision. It was the best thing to do.

My breath fogged out in front of me as I knelt in the cold snow, hidden behind a clump of bushes. It was 9:55 and I had already been crouching in this uncomfortable position for almost a half hour, waiting for Jamie to show up. I had decided to hide myself and see if Jamie would even come and if he was alone or not. In other words, I was pushing back the decision until the last possible moment.

Snow fell into my boot as I shifted positions slightly, causing me to almost jump up and shout in surprise. I bit down on my tongue to swallow my scream and forced myself to endure the chill as the ice melted inside my tan ankle boot and soaked my sock. It was too close to showtime to risk revealing my position now.

My breath caught when I heard the tell-tale crunch of boots on the icy snow not far away from me. I ducked my head and concentrated on keeping my breathing quiet. I peered through a gap in the branches and saw Jamie wander over to a bench only ten feet in front of me.

"Jack? North? Sandy? Tooth? Bunny? Are you guys here?" Jamie called. I hunched my shoulders inwards in an attempt to further conceal myself in the bushes when he turned around to look in my direction. Luckily, between my midnight black coat and the lack of streetlamps, his eyes didn't even pause near me. After a long silence with no response, I considered revealing myself to Jamie. I didn't want him to sit out here alone. But something stopped me.

I tilted my head at a strange sound that seemed to be coming from the sky. Was that…. was that bells? My brow furrowed as my mind struggled to make up an explanation. Jamie perked up at the sound of the bells and was practically bouncing up and down in his seat as the sound grew closer. My eyes widened almost to the size of quarters as a large, tricked-out but rickety sleigh landed in the clearing directly in front of Jamie. That wasn't even the most unbelievable part. The sleigh was being pulled by reindeer. Reindeer. Thoughts ran furiously through my head as I began to contemplate my sanity, or apparent lack thereof. Who saw these kinds of things unless they were crazy?

"Jamie!" A vaguely familiar voice resounded through the air. A flash of blue, white, and brown flew through the air and landed in front of Jamie, holding still long enough for me to make out a very familiar figure. One I had drawn for Jamie only twenty-six hours ago. Jack Frost.

He looked almost exactly like the picture I had sketched Jamie. My eyes roved over his lithe, thin frame from his snowy white hair to his incredibly bare feet as my mouth popped open. I was so distracted by the scene in front of me that I almost forgot about the sleigh until another voice chimed in.

"Jamie, my boy!" a loud voice boomed through the air. I glanced back over to the sleigh and almost fell over in surprise. A large man dressed in a red coat with black trimming and a Russian accent raised his hands in greeting. Jamie rushed to hug him. When the man kneeled down, he revealed a form behind him of a strange, floating woman who seemed to have been crossed with a hummingbird. The woman was covered in brightly colored feathers and had what looked like tiny birds whizzing around her head as she barked out orders to them. A small golden man surrounded by sand the color of sunshine floated out from the sleigh, followed by the strangest one yet. A giant, six-foot-tall rabbit was the last to emerge, grumbling something about carrots and taking the tunnels next time.

Jack Frost. Santa Claus. Tooth Fairy. Sandman. The Easter Bunny.

Holy crap. Jamie was right.

"Oh my god," I whispered, hands reaching up to cover my mouth. I must not have been as quiet as I thought because five heads whipped around to stare right at the bushes where I was hiding. I scrambled backwards and landed right on my backside, soaking the bottom of my coat and part of my black tights with snow.

"Nerezza?" I heard Jamie call. Footsteps hurried in my direction and I panicked, pushing myself up into a standing position and scuttling backwards in fright. Six pairs of eyes locked with mine as my feet struggled to move my shaking figure and avoid tangling themselves into knots. I turned to run when Jamie spoke again. "Wait, Nerezza! Don't go!"

I ignored him and took off in the direction of the forest, aiming to lose them in the trees. My calves burned and I cursed myself for not owning a single pair of shoes that had any less than three inches of heel, in this case in wedge form. Either way, it made it next to impossible to run, let alone run quickly.

Cold wind blew past me. My ponytail holder was ripped out of my hair, causing inky black locks to fly right into my face and block my vision. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders from in front of me and I screamed. The sound shattered the relative silence and caused the air to almost vibrate around us with its intensity. I kicked in front of me. My boot connected with something hard and a yelp followed my scream. The hands released me in an instant. I brushed my hair away from my eyes and darted away from where Jack Frost now lay curled up in the snow, clutching his shin.

"Nerezza, stop!" Jamie pleaded, gasping for breath. He wasn't far behind me but the snow was piling up and making it harder and harder to run.

A flash of grey zoomed ahead of me and screeched to a halt only a few feet from me. The large shape of the Easter Bunny appeared, arms crossed and determination in his eyes. "Stop."

I stumbled to a stop, barely avoiding crashing right into him. He studied me with his fierce green eyes before speaking again.

"Nice hit on Frosty by the way. I think you and I are going to get along fine," he grinned at me as he tossed a boomerang in the air. His Australian accent shocked me a bit, but the surprise didn't last long. It couldn't. "Sandy, knock her out."

I frantically spiraled around, but they already had me surrounded. The Sandman smiled comfortingly at me and formed a snowball of sand in between his hands. My breath came out in pants as I began to hyperventilate, pushing outwards on the weakest point in the circle. Jamie.

He stumbled backwards with a shout of surprise. I took advantage of the distraction and headed straight towards town. Pitch's face appeared in the looming shadows, leering at me. His cruel laugh echoed through my head before I suddenly fell to the ground, tripped by a stray tree root poking up through the ground. I heard the other approaching and knew I was a goner.

The last thing I heard before blackness overcame me was Pitch, welcoming me back to his domain.

**I'm liking this fast updating :) Much love to all my reviewers, favoriters, and followers. You guys are all super-duper awesome, but I need more of you guys! Spread the word and get more readers! :) Also, much love to my beta fall to the left (who is also awesome at writing. check out her stories!). The excitement is finally picking up. The real story is beginning! **

**~FantasyAndBrokenDreams**


	5. Foedus

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from RotG._**

* * *

_"Oh my darling Nerezza," Pitch crooned. He reached up his thin, ghostly-pale hand to touch the side of my face affectionately. "You think the Guardians can help you? You think they can stop me?"_

_ "I didn't even think they existed," I spat at him with contempt. He smiled at me, his gold orbs studying my expression carefully._

_ "No. You shouldn't even have been able to see them…my mistake, my mistake," he mumbled under his breath so quietly it was obvious he didn't think I could hear it. But I could._

_ "What do you mean?" I asked him, leaning back against a tree as I watched him pace back and forth._

_ He turned to face me, surprise flitting across his face for a single moment before he smoothed it out once again. "Nothing. Nothing at all."_

_ "So, no nightmares this time? No screaming people or burning houses?" I allowed sarcasm to seep into my tone. It was strange. This dream was different. There was no fear, just the two of us on an abandoned street that I didn't recognize at nighttime. It was completely and utterly silent other than the sound of our two voices echoing around in the empty space. No other sounds of life, no animal sounds or purring of car motors could be heard at all. Just dark, enveloping, never-ending silence._

_ "No. I have decided that is no longer the best course of action. The time has come to try something…different," he decided on that word after taking a moment to debate in his head. "Yes, very different."_

_ "What do you mean?" I asked, allowing my inquisitiveness to show. Normally I considered showing emotions a sign of weak self-control, but Pitch could always tell what I was thinking no matter what I did, so it seemed inane at this point to try to hide anything._

_ "You are a better ally than opponent," he told me simply. My brow crinkled as I tried to wrap my head around the riddle he presented me. I could tell this offer was a wolf in sheep's clothes, but I was tired of enduring his endless nightmares. But why would he make such an offer in the first place?_

_ "Why?" I pressed further. I didn't want to accept any offer without further explanation. I knew I would get only lies or half-truths but as far as I was concerned, it was better than nothing. I wasn't going to go into this tentative alliance blind._

_ "You are in a position I find useful. You can gain the Guardians' trust by telling them of all of my…torment. Then, you can help me vanquish them once and for all," he proposed. I blinked in shock. He wanted me to deceive Jamie and those he believed in fully for him? After all he had done to me?_

_ "No," I answered quickly after I regained my power of speech. "Definitely not."_

_ "You may want to hear the rest before you make such a hasty decision," he cautioned as I turned to storm away from him. I wouldn't get far, especially in a world he controlled, but maybe I'd wake up before he could find me again._

_ "Nothing you say can change my mind," I said fiercely. I clenched my fists at my sides but stopped walking. Damn my curious mind._

_ "I wouldn't say that," he said, suddenly appearing right in front of me. I shrieked and skittered a bit backwards before glaring at him._

_ "What?" I hissed as he laughed at my reaction. "What could you possibly have to say?"_

_ "How about a bargain?" he suggested, absentmindedly twirling a few strands of his omnipresent black sand between his fingers. "You help me and I'll leave you – and your loved ones – alone. Forever."_

_ I raised my eyebrows at his offer. His words held nothing but sincerity; however, the glint in his eyes held me back. I didn't trust him as far as I could throw him. "I don't believe you."_

_ "Fair enough," he shrugged, raising his hands. "I didn't want to do this, but desperate times call for desperate measures."_

_ "What desperate measures?" I asked, my voice razor-sharp. He smiled at my annoyance and took his time answering, preferring to pet the freakish, black sand horse that had just formed next to him._

_ "You wouldn't want something to happen to your mother's plane home, would you? Or maybe Jamie's school bus driver will keel over after a fear-induced heart attack? A bus accident would make a tragic headline," he threatened, his horse whinnying behind him. Its blood-red eyes were filled with merciless hunger and my stomach rolled as I considered what would happen if I refused._

_ "How do I know that you won't do it anyways?" I challenged him. He smiled almost proudly at my question, golden eyes shining._

_ "I guess you'll just have to trust me then," he countered. He knew I had no choice here. Either I protected the ones I cared about or they all died. I had been backed completely into a corner. "However, as a gesture of good faith, I will no longer send you nightmares. I will only visit you when you call me with news."_

_ I hesitated, words bubbling in my throat. I wanted to scream at him and tell him no and watch the anger grow in his eyes the way it did in mine. But I couldn't. I had to protect them. Plus, I couldn't yell due to the conditioning I had received as a child. It took everything I had just to defy him like this. He had already broken me far past my breaking point._

_ "Fine," I muttered reluctantly. His Cheshire cat smile irked me. He had gotten his way once again and I could tell he was very pleased with himself. "But if I get a single nightmare, or if you hurt anyone I care about, the deal's off. I'll tell the Guardians everything and your plan will be ruined."_

_ "Perfect," he said, golden eyes gleaming with self-satisfaction. The horse's crimson eyes followed his master as he moved, filled with just as much smugness as Pitch's. "Anything important, anywhere or any way in which the Guardians are vulnerable, I expect to hear about it right away. I don't care how insignificant it seems, I want to hear about it."_

_ "Yes sir," I grumbled, saluting him mockingly. "Now are we done?"_

_ "If you understand our agreement, you are free to go," Pitch replied, gesturing with his hands towards a large, imposing black door that had suddenly appeared in the middle of the street. "I look forward to your first report."_

_ I nodded towards him as a farewell before grasping the cold iron handle of the door and twisting it. The door opened, revealing a blinding white light. I glanced back at Pitch one last time before stepping through the doorway straight into the light._

* * *

I groaned and raised my hands to rub my eyes. My entire body hurt like I had been tossed around in a giant washing machine for hours on end.

"Guys, she's waking up!" Jamie's voice sounded very close and very excited. All at once, the memories from before my unconsciousness came rushing back.

My eyes snapped open, revealing six blurry yet familiar figures.

Oh, crap._  
_

* * *

**As always, much love to my beta fall to the left. Check her out if you haven't already. Also, I love all of you guys who review, favorite, and/or follow! Of course I love you all just for reading this story, but I love you reviewers/favoriters/followers even more! :) So leave me some love too! :D Sorry for the shortness of the chapter, but it seemed logical to end it there. Next chapter should be longer :)**

**Alla prossima,**

**~FantasyAndBrokenDreams**


	6. Facio

**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING FROM RotG.**

* * *

Chapter 5

My breath rushed out of me in one large gasp as I shoved my back against the headboard of the large, pillowy bed I now found myself in. Six pairs of eyes, one familiar and five mostly-new, followed my movements. They watched me warily like they expected me to make a break for it again. I wouldn't. I had regained my head from the surprise and terror and felt a little shame for my earlier actions. My mother would have clucked her tongue at me if she had seen how unladylike I had been. Besides, I was intelligent enough to recognize the situation. I was at a clear disadvantage and was obviously cornered, so running would just embarrass me further and make me look like an imbecile.

"Where am I?" I demanded, my words cutting through the silence like shards of ice. Jamie flinched at my tone, clear and hard. He knew I was angry. He also knew how fine a line there was between my composure and my temper. He had been on the receiving end of my brutal, merciless temper only once-it had been such a terrifying experience for poor seven-year-old Jamie that he couldn't look me in the eye for months.

"Santoff Claussen," the burly figure of Santa Clause answered, a Russian accent surprising me a bit. But hey, if the Easter Bunny is Australian, why couldn't Santa be Russian? "Welcome to my home. "His 'w' sounded like a 'v', so it was more 'Velcome to my home."

"Where exactly is Santoff Claussen?" I asked slowly, adding a sneering edge when I pronounced the last two words. The teenage boy, _Jack Frost_, hardened his gaze at me. The overly-large rabbit didn't look to be too happy with me either.

"The North Pole?" Jamie responded, his voice squeaking into a question at the end. My eyebrows shot up before they lowered to support the fiery glare I directed towards Jamie.

"You. Have. Got. To. Be. Kidding. Me," I snarled loudly. I struggled to maintain the last scrap of composure I still had, but I was hundreds of miles away from home and, quite frankly, I was pissed off. The primal part of my brain was screaming to hell with being a lady! These guys kidnapped me and transported me to the North Pole for god's sake! But the more developed part of my conscious refused to yield, repressing the primal side until only my hands still revealed my internal turmoil. I pressed my shaking palms onto the sheets, staring at my thin, pale fingers for the moment it took to take a deep breath before raising my eyes back up to meet Jamie's. "Take me home."

Jamie gulped and his eyes darted around guiltily. The legendary figures seemed to be debating amongst themselves through their eyes over who would be the one to break the news to me, although what the news was I could only guess at. A cold feeling burrowed in the pit of my stomach as I began to realize that I probably wasn't going to be allowed to go home, unless I wanted to take my chances and brave the sub-zero temperatures and wicked wind I could see blowing the ice and snow around outside the room's large window.

"Not until you answer some questions," Jack Frost finally answered, leaning back against his large, knobby stick. His jewel-blue eyes held a mixture of emotions ranging from anger to distrust to the little spark of sarcasm and wit I didn't think ever truly abandoned him. I had only interacted with him for a moment but his eyes were clear like water and bared his soul for all to see. Or maybe I was just perceptive.

"I have nothing to say, especially not to characters in a particularly strange dream. Any second now I'll be waking up to the obnoxious sound of my alarm clock or Adriana will jump on my face because she's hungry," I crossed my arms in fake defiance, my mind already telling my mouth what to say to begin the whole scheme I had to conduct. Pitch's voice echoed constantly in my mind, reminding me of what was at stake here.

The giant rabbit snorted. I turned to unleash my famous icy glare at him, which caused him to shift uncomfortably and look away.

"This isn't a dream Nerezza," Jamie told me insistently. "I promise!"

"That's reassuring," I commented dryly. "Coming from a dream character."

"How can she see us?" the frosty beanpole of a person asked, directing his question towards Santa Claus and speaking like I didn't exist. "I thought no one can see us if they don't believe."

"Is very perplexing," Santa replied gruffly in his broken English, stroking his beard with a large, baseball mitt of a hand.

"I'm still here," I reminded them impatiently. I didn't like being talked about like I wasn't there in the room.

"Kinda hard to forget," the white-haired boy muttered under his breath exasperatedly. I gave him a death glare, which he returned. However, I took the victory when he shifted his icy blue eyes away from my dark brown ones first.

"Now, since this is my dream, can you all just go away please? As much as I enjoy your company, I'd rather be alone until I wake up," I said, settling back into the pillows and closing my eyes. I heard a snort off to the side, most likely from the frosty idiot but could also have been the giant talking rabbit as well. Oh my goodness. Maybe I really was crazy.

"She's nuts," I heard Jack Frost mutter to one of his companions. "Why are we even bothering with her?"

"She is still child," Santa Clause answered, like that one fact made all the difference. "We protect **all** children."

"She could be lying," Jack Frost pointed out, his eagerness to get me away from this place showing.

"No, I don't think so," the heavily accented voice of the Easter Bunny reached my ears. "Look at all these drawings. Pitch's been haunting her for a while."

I heard multiple sharp intakes of breath as the motely crowd took in the various sketches in my book. I clenched my fists together, using every bit of my self-control I could muster to restrain myself from leaping from the bed to yank my book away from them. That was private.

"So what now?" an unfamiliar female voice joined the fray.

"We find Pitch," Santa Clause answered simply.

"How?" Jack Frost asked, sounding much closer to my bedside than before.

"The girl will show us the way."

* * *

_Sorry for the wait...I suck at updating. Seriously. I am so freaking busy. Muchos gracias to **fall to the** **left **for beta'ing this chapter so late (well, it's not late for her but it is for me so...) at night and for being obnoxious about my horrid updating...so go thank her or something. Thanks to everyone reading for not giving up on me completely :) Also, I did change my pen name from FantasyAndBrokenDreams to memoirs-of-a-dreamer. Until next time!_

_lots of love,_

_memoirs-of-a-dreamer_


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